


Power Cuts and You: A Gamer's Guide to Hell on Earth

by Vertiga



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Grand Theft Auto Setting, Arguing, Arson, Board Games, Fake AH Crew, Female Jack, Found Family, Game Night, Gen, Memes, Monopoly (Board Game), Power Cut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-27
Updated: 2015-11-27
Packaged: 2018-05-03 17:10:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5299478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vertiga/pseuds/Vertiga
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The power is out in Los Santos, but the Fake AH Crew have a pile of board games to keep them entertained. How bad can it be?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Power Cuts and You: A Gamer's Guide to Hell on Earth

Michael slams the fuse box with a clang, taking the flashlight out of his mouth and grimacing at the lingering rubbery taste.

‘Nope, we’re fucked,’ he reports, to a chorus of groans from the crew.

‘You’d think a multi-million dollar penthouse would have a fucking back-up generator,’ Geoff grouses, sprawling back in his chair like it’s all far too much effort for him.

‘You’d think a smart mob boss would have bought one,’ Jack points out, and Geoff half-heartedly throws a pillow at her.

‘So what do we do?’ Gavin asks. ‘I don’t wanna go out!’

It’s not very late, but they’re coming down from the days of tension and sudden rush of a heist. None of them are in the mood for more than lounging about playing video games and eating their weight in junk food, but the power cut has put paid to half of that plan.

‘Game night,’ Ryan suggests.

‘We’ve got no power, Ryan!’ Michael says.

‘No, not video games,’ Ryan says. ‘Hang on.’

He disappears down the hallway, his usual menacing figure made even more intimidating by the flickering candles and flashlights that are their only illumination.

‘Do you think he’s enjoying this?’ Ray asks, looking up from the light of his DS for the first time since the power died. ‘He’s like, naturally made for shadows.’

‘I’m surprised he’s not out there, lurking in the dark, stabbing people in the neck,’ Geoff says, waving idly at the wall of windows. It’s almost pitch black outside, too dark for anyone with sense to be walking the streets, but good sense has never been Ryan’s defining trait.

It’s eerie to see their side of the city so dark, all the street lights and neon gone out, the only illumination coming from the weak beams of headlights passing far below. Even the distant freeway looks like a pale reflection of itself.

For the first time since Michael moved to Los Santos, it’s dark enough in the heart of the city for him to see the stars, and it feels oddly calming to turn off his flashlight and stand at the windows, looking at the faint pin pricks of blue-white light so many thousands of miles above. It reminds him of going out into the desert north of the city, dumping bodies or doing deals, and lying on the hood of his car at night when his work was done, staring up at the sky and feeling incredibly small. 

Only this time, he’s not alone. The crew is all gathered in the living room behind him, and their chatter stops the darkness from feeling lonely or overwhelming. It’s like having a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, and he turns with a smile when Ryan’s return is heralded by Ray shouting.

‘What the fuck are those?!’

‘They’re what people did in the dark times before video games,’ Ryan snarks, setting a stack of cardboard boxes on the coffee table.

‘Where did you get these?’ Jack asks, bending close and sorting through the boxes with great interest. 

_Of course Jack actually likes board games, what a nerd!_ Michael thinks fondly, walking over to the table.

‘I got them from Goodwill,’ Ryan says. ‘All the pieces are still in them, I checked.’

‘Why the fuck were you at Goodwill?’ Geoff asks, wrinkling his nose with distaste. ‘I’m pretty sure everything in there is a biohazard.’

‘I was hiding from the cops,’ Ryan says. ‘And it would have looked weird if I’d stayed too long without buying something. No one thinks the guy carrying an armload of games is the same guy who just set three cops on fire, right? I thought it’d be nice to have them for Thanksgiving or something.’

‘Or a power cut,’ Jack agrees. ‘This is really cool, Ryan.’

Michael recognises Clue, Scrabble and Monopoly from every clichéd family movie ever made, but there are others he doesn’t know. Settlers of Catan, Taboo, and –

‘Puerto Rico?’ Michael reads off the tan-coloured box. ‘Holy shit, Ray, they made a game for your people!’

Ray looks over his DS and actually laughs. ‘Figures, they probably still play shit like this.’

‘Gotta do something without electricity,’ Geoff agrees. ‘But we totally have to play that.’

‘What’s Clue? Is that Cluedo?’ Gavin asks.

‘What the fuck is Cluedo? Why’s there a “doh” on the end?’ Geoff asks.

‘I dunno, it’s just what it’s called,’ Gavin insists. ‘Why’d you take the end off?’

‘Because Cluedo isn’t a word!’ Jack says.

‘Neither’s scrabble!’ Gavin says.

‘Of course it’s a word. What do rats do in the walls?’ Ryan points out.

‘But it’s got nothing to do with letters or anything.’

‘No one said it did, you just said it wasn’t a word,’ Geoff says.

‘Can we just agree Gavin’s a moron and play something?’ Michael asks. Much as Gavin’s stupidity is usually an enormous source of amusement, he’s not really in the mood for a screaming match. Half a wall fell on him during the heist, and he’s still feeling a little tender.

‘Let’s try Puerto Rico, in honour of our token minority,’ Geoff says. He turns, and notices that Ray has curled up into his hoodie until only his fingers and the DS are visible.

‘Hey, pretending to be a fucking turtle isn’t getting you out of game night, asshole,’ Geoff tells him. ‘Ryan, take his DS until we’re done.’

Ryan reaches for it, and a short wrestling match ensues, with Ray balling up even smaller and trying to dig his way into the couch to protect his game.

‘Okay, okay! Just let me save first!’ Ray yells eventually, when Ryan is all but sitting on him. ‘Jesus, I need to breathe!’

Ryan stands up, letting Ray uncurl and flop on his back on the couch, panting.

‘You’re fucking heavy, man, what do you eat?’ he complains.

‘Lead, engine parts, the bones of my enemies,’ Ryan says nonchalantly.

‘One of those is probably true,’ Michael says. ‘Ryan the cannibal guy.’

‘Listen, no one can prove there was a murder if they can’t find a body,’ Ryan says, grinning ghoulishly in the candlelight.

‘God, you’re awful,’ Gavin says, with a shudder that’s only partially faked. They’re all used to Ryan, but he’s still a little creepy at times. 

‘Actually, it looks like you can only play Puerto Rico with a maximum of five,’ Jack says, reading the instructions. ‘We’ll have to save it for another time.’

‘Oh, what a shame, I’ll sit out,’ Ray volunteers immediately.

‘You’re playing,’ Geoff says, pointing a finger at him.

‘Fucking kill me,’ Ray mutters.

‘You’ll be thankful later when the power hasn’t come back on and you still have battery,’ Michael suggests.

‘If the power isn’t back on by morning I’m fucking leaving,’ Ray promises. ‘No power, no Brownman.’

‘God, don’t start referring to yourself in the third person,’ Geoff says with a groan. ‘It’s hard enough stopping Jeremy from doing it!’

‘Scrabble and Settlers of Catan are only for four people, but Taboo can be played with six, and so can Clue and Monopoly,’ Jack reports.

‘I’m not playing Clue with a bunch of murderers, the dramatic irony will kill me,’ Geoff declares.

‘What’s Taboo?’ Michael asks.

‘It’s a word game.’

‘Nope,’ Michael says at once. ‘Word games with Gavin? Are you fucking kidding?’

‘Fair point,’ Jack says, laughing. ‘Looks like we’re playing Monopoly then.’

‘I wanna be the top hat!’ Gavin says at once. ‘Tippy toppers!’

Jack opens the box and starts setting up the game, digging out the player pieces to let them choose their own.

‘I’ll be the boot, to kick your asses!’ Geoff says, with an exaggerated kicking motion that makes them all laugh.

‘Yo, pass me the train,’ Ray says. ‘You know why?’

‘Don’t even think about it,’ Michael warns.

‘Because it has no brakes, woo woo!’ Ray says, and Michael throws a cushion at him, narrowly missing a candle.

Ryan takes the little dog, and Jack takes the old race car, leaving Michael to choose last. 

‘Fuck it, give me the cannon,’ Michael says. ‘I’ll blow some bitches up.’

With all the cards set out, and Jack playing the bank because the rest of them are even less trustworthy than she is, they roll for first player. 

Ryan goes first, and almost immediately the arguments over house rules start.

‘You can’t buy property on the first round,’ Geoff insists.

‘But why not? How fucking long do you want this game to last?’ Ryan asks. 

‘We’ve got all night,’ Jack points out.

‘Yeah, no, I’m not playing this all night,’ Ray says immediately. ‘We’ve got maybe an hour before I snap and set the building on fire.’

‘Fine, fine! Buy the stupid property,’ Geoff says, looking grumpy. It’s St. Charles Place, the first of the pink set.

‘It’s not like it’s Boardwalk,’ Michael says soothingly.

‘But I like the pinks, okay? Shut up,’ Geoff says, folding his arms.

‘All these names are weird,’ Gavin says, peering at the board as he takes his turn. ‘Where the bloody hell is Oxford Street, and the Angel Islington?’

‘The Angel what?’ Ray says. ‘Is that a real place?’

‘Yeah, it’s in London,’ Gavin insists.

‘Well, this is America, dumbass,’ Geoff says. ‘So we play with American places.’

‘All the properties are named for places in Atlantic City,’ Jack explains.

‘Y-y-yeah, New Jersey hype!’ Michael says, then pulls a face. He’s so fucking glad he moved out of Jersey.

‘Oh, that’s why they’re all Avenue this and Avenue that,’ Gavin says, mollified. Then he spots something else weird. ‘Oi, why are the shitty properties purple?’

‘They’re always purple,’ Ryan says.

‘No, they’re meant to be brown,’ Gavin says. ‘Brown for shitty and dirty. Purple’s a rich colour, that doesn’t make any sense!’

‘You know, you’ve kind of got a point there,’ Ryan says thoughtfully. ‘Maybe they should be brown.’

‘Oh my God, it’s the first fucking round!’ Michael says.

‘I’m not spending all night arguing over the fucking board with you,’ Geoff declares. ‘This is America, it’s an American Monopoly board, it’s different, deal with it.’

‘Deal with it,’ Ray says, miming putting on a pair of sunglasses.

‘And what did we say about memes?’ Jack says, whacking Ray round the back of the head.

‘Can’t stop the meme train,’ Ray mutters sullenly, then adds, even more quietly, ‘No brakes!’

They somehow make it through two full rounds before Ray lands on Income Tax, and they argue all over again.

‘Money goes in the middle, and you pick it up on Free Parking,’ Geoff declares.

‘Money goes in the goddamn bank,’ Jack insists.

‘If it goes in the middle it just makes the game longer. Why do all your house rules make the game _longer_?’ Ryan asks.

‘Look, there is fucking nothing to do in Alabama. You want the game to last as long as possible, okay?’

‘But we’re not in Alabama!’ Ryan says.

‘Might as fucking well be,’ Ray mutters. ‘No electricity, and a bunch of pissed off guys with guns?’

‘Sounds pretty Deep South to me,’ Michael agrees, laughing.

‘Just put it in the bank,’ Jack says. ‘If you’re that desperate for Monopoly, we can always play again, Geoff.’

‘Haha, over my dead body!’ Ray says, stuffing his tax money into the bank before Geoff can mount another argument. ‘I’m never playing this again.’

As the game goes on, Gavin proves to be predictably terrible at Monopoly, spending recklessly on bad properties, failing to build houses in the right places, and ending up in jail multiple times.

‘Seriously?’ Michael bursts out, when Gavin rolls his third double in a row. ‘You have the world’s worst fucking luck!’

‘Michael, I don’t like it in jail, Michael,’ Gavin whines. ‘Organise a prison break, come and bust me out.’

‘Hell no, that was bad enough the last time,’ Michael says, shuddering at the memory of the multi-helicopter, super-explosive clusterfuck which ensued when they had to break Geoff out of the State Penitentiary for real.

They struggle on for another ten rounds before Gavin finally goes bankrupt, and Michael thinks there might be an end in sight.

Unfortunately, the question of what happens to Gavin’s remaining properties is the cause of yet another argument.

‘No, they go to Ryan, because Gavin owes him money,’ Geoff says.

‘But then Ryan owns half the board in one go. They go up for auction,’ Jack counters.

‘Okay, if you fucking insist! We’ll auction them,’ Geoff says. ‘Who’s dumb enough to pay for mortgaged property?’

‘They don’t stay mortgaged.’

‘Of course they do!’

‘NOPE!’ Ray yells, throwing up his hands. ‘That’s it, I am fucking done! Goodnight, hasta la vista, bon fucking voyage.’

‘But you haven’t finished the game, Ray,’ Gavin says.

‘Oh my god, I don’t care!’ Ray yells, and grabs the nearest edge of the board. He flips it over, and cards, money and plastic houses go flying off into the gloom, obliterating their progress. 

One of the fluttering bank notes catches on the edge of a candle and starts burning from one corner. Ryan grabs it and puts it out before the whole lot can catch fire, not that any of them would probably mind much by this point.

‘I’m going out to burn down a fucking police station while their power’s out,’ Ray declares. ‘Who’s coming with me?’

There is an immediate chorus of agreement.

‘Well why didn’t we do that two hours ago?’ Ryan asks.

‘Because we were trying to have a nice, civilised game night.’ Geoff says petulantly.

Michael laughs. ‘Are you kidding, Geoff? We’re the Fake AH Crew. Setting government property on fire _is_ game night.’

‘I guess so,’ Geoff concedes, then brightens up at once. ‘I call dibs on the flare gun!’


End file.
